Page 207 of Wrong Pucking Player

With a lean of his head to one side, I bob my head in understanding, following Oliver until we’re in an office near the exit that leads to the outdoor track.

“You good?” Oliver doesn’t play around with time.

He loves getting straight to the point.

“At first, I didn’t really care about how much we made,” I confess as I lean against the wall and stare at my feet.

“And now?”

“And now I feel like utter shit,” I admit.

“Because of what you heard?”

To be honest, I feel it’s more than that.

“What I heard down the hall. O’Riley’s speech. Just witnessing the shift in the room and how he was able to make those grown-ass men cry in utter relief,” I admit. “Instead, our captain secured his ass, and now I have teammates who I’m sure have potential, but don’t have an advocate to vouch for them.”

“What do you want to do?”

I lift my head to look into his eyes.

“If you had the power that O’Riley has, what would you do for your fellow teammates.”

“I’d get them a better deal.” There’s not a hint of hesitation. “I’d fight to ensure their base deals were even better than Winchester’s.”

“Why?” That’s the prime question that echoes in the small room.

“Remember when we were on the verge of losing everything? When I stood by your side, crying because I couldn’t see a way out, despite trying again and again. You stood there, despite the emotional burdens put upon you, and told me we wouldn’t starve to death. That we’d find our way of regaining our birthright. Despite all odds that were formed against us, you didn’t lose hope. You did everything to get us what we deserved, even if it meant selling yourself to who we thought was the devil.”

I let out a breath and push away from the wall to face him.

“What can I do to help the team? I don’t want them finding out immediately if there is a way for us to increase the advances but not long enough that some of them quit.”

Oliver stares back at me for ten long seconds before he smirks at my determined conviction.

“I knew my little bro wasn’t a wimp,” he comments with a bit of pride. “Well, I’ll have to pull some strings and ensure Winchester and his Daddy Dearest don’t fuck shit up.”

“Not surprised,” I grumble.

“Get on the track before Coach Johnson benches you,” Oliver encourages. “You bringing your girl tonight for our little meeting?”

“You think everyone’s going to be up for it with this news?”

He laughs.

“Fuck no.”

“We need to have the discussion, though,” I admit. “I think Cyrus Jr. wants to get involved.”

“Oh?” Oliver’s smirk only grows. “Wants back into our world? Who possibly encouraged that?”

“You already know the answer.”

“The one you have eyes on fucking?”

“I see her more than just an object, Oliver.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that, little bro. I see it in your eyes,” he vouches and takes a step forward so we’re facing each other. “Which is why you need to start protecting what you have eyes on. Or someone else is going to steal your grand prize.”

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